Favorite Mistakes
by KawaiiTenshi27
Summary: MWPP era. A bit of a twist on what is usual. Two of our favorite characters are together, but only for stress relief, not because they're in love. What happens when one of them starts to fall in love? Slash, be warned. RLSB.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Warning:** slash, get over it, or get out. The rating is for **_safety_**, I really don't think it's necessary, but I'm being careful. Kooky POV.

**Favorite Mistakes**

**Chapter 1**

I wake up early, as I always do, and glance towards the clock out of habit. I don't register the numbers glowing a demonic red on the narrow screen, but I know it's 6:00 am exactly. I'm alone.

There's a snuffling snore from Peter's bed. I ignore it.

Of its own volition, my hand sneaks over to the empty indent left on the mattress, feeling the sheet. It's cold by now, of course. It always is.

I turn onto my side, facing the vacant side of the mattress, and close my eyes. If I can't see, I can imagine I'm not alone. In my mind's eye, I see fiery red hair and beautiful green eyes. Soft lips curl in a sweet smile. I smile back. I reach out to touch the silky hair. My fingers are met with nothing but air and the vision shatters. Something clenches in my chest, and I swallow the sudden lump in my throat, opening my eyes to… nothing.

My eyes sting and I close them again quickly. I rebuild my dream, remembering the dusting of freckles across the nose and the barely noticeable dimple next to the full rose-petal lips. I sigh, tempted to reach out again, but I don't.

Slowly, holding the dream close, I fall asleep once more.

– – – – –

"Hey! Evans!" the seventeen-year-old boy with hopelessly mussed black hair yells down the Gryffindor table. "Go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"

"Not on your life, Potter!" the redheaded Lily Evans calls back, not even looking up from her breakfast. The girls around her giggle and bend closer to their own meals, whispering excitedly.

"Not bad, James," Remus Lupin tells the mussy-haired boy encouragingly.

James Potter glares at him.

Remus holds up his hands defensively, one still wrapped around his fork. "At least she didn't hex you, this time," he points out. "I'd say that's a step in the right direction."

James groans and drops his hazel gaze to his plate.

Sirius glances down the table at the redheaded girl, who looks in their direction at the same moment. Grey eyes meet green and Lily quirks an eyebrow at the black-haired boy before turning back to her friends. Sirius watches her for several more seconds then claps James heartily on the back. "Buck up, mate," he says cheerfully. "The day is young and Saturday is still three days away. There's hope yet."

James looks up, his glare back in place. "You don't believe a word of it," he snaps. "I can tell."

"I'm sure she'll go out with you," Peter Pettigrew soothes, mouth empty for the first time since the four boys sat down. He's in the process of re-filling his plate.

"Lies!" James exclaims dramatically. "All lies! Don't any of you respect me enough to tell me the truth?"

Remus, Sirius, and Peter all look at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing.

"What?" James demands, scowling around at his three friends.

Peter instantly vanishes into his breakfast, leaving Remus and Sirius exchanging awkward looks.

"Well, if you want my _honest_ opinion –" Sirius begins, but Remus cuts him off.

"She doesn't hate you as much as she used to," he tells his still-scowling friend, shooting a warning look at Sirius.

James's hazel eyes lock on Remus, desperate hope shining unconcealed on his face. "Really?" he asks, sounding a little choked.

A small half-smile twists one corner of Remus's mouth even as Sirius laughs – and hastily turns it into a cough. "Really," Remus assures his ever-optimistic friend.

"How can you be so sure?" James inquires, almost as if he doesn't want to hear the answer.

"Well, she's stopped hexing you quite so often since you made Head Boy," Remus points out. "She only does it now when you really deserve it. She usually acknowledges you when you address her, these days – and not in a particularly threatening way, either. She doesn't walk out of any room you walk into anymore. And, most importantly, I think…" He pauses for effect.

"_Well_?" James demands, right on cue, leaning in over the table towards Remus.

"Well," Remus continues, a hint of mischief in his eyes, "I was speaking with her the other day and your name happened to be mentioned." He pauses again.

"What did she _say_?" James is practically in his plate.

"She said," Remus's eyes flicker to the black-haired boy next to him before settling once more on the black-haired boy almost lying across the table, "that she doesn't hate you quite as much as she used to."

James sags onto the table, letting out a groan of exasperation.

Remus chuckles, looking somewhat pleased with himself.

Sirius lets out a short bark-like laugh then glances down the table at the redheaded girl once more. She is completely immersed in a discussion with the girls around her. Sirius quickly turns back to his own breakfast.

Remus nudges his shoulder against that of the grey-eyed boy next to him.

Sirius looks up at his friend, startled.

Remus grins. "I know it's hard, sometimes, but don't look so serious."

"Hard?" Sirius quirks an eyebrow suggestively. "I should say so. But with all these people around, I really can't do anything about it, can I?"

Remus snickers. "I haven't the foggiest idea what you mean," he says loftily.

"I was born Sirius," Sirius explains gravely, eyes laughing. "I can't just change how I look with all these people around. Think of the scandal it would cause! A black dog running around instead of a Black boy. Parents would be storming the school, demanding their children be returned before they, too, were turned into various and sundry canines. We'd be forced to explain that they'd be better off as canines, look what happened to Potter and Pettigrew! A horny ungulate (1) and a measly rat, how embarrassing would that be? Rats, well, you know, and stags? Dinner with legs." He shakes his head sadly. "To this day, I cannot eat venison stew without feeling a bit guilty."

A second, louder, groan emerges from the general direction of James, who is still sprawled across the table.

"Er, James?" Peter has emerged from his once more spotless plate. "Would you mind awfully moving? You're on the bacon."

In perfect unison, Remus and Sirius look at Peter, at James, at Peter again, then at each other before bursting into laughter.

– – – – –

Remus and Lily are sitting next to each other at the front of the classroom. They've been partners in Defense Against the Dark Arts since the beginning of the year, but, as the teacher has not yet arrived, they are still discussing their most recent Charms lesson.

Sirius and James, also partners, sit several rows behind them at the back of the room, watching as the prefect and the Head Girl tilt their heads together over their notes.

"You'd think, with the two of them being such grand friends, that Remus could convince her to go on _one_ date with me," James grumbles to Sirius, but it is half-hearted. He knows Remus has tried, despite the risks to his own friendship with Lily Evans. Not that anyone can really stay angry with Remus for very long, he's just one of those people. But in a different way from Sirius, who is also 'just one of those people.'

"Looks like _you're_ the one _trying_ to think," Sirius replies. "Does it hurt much?"

"Prat." James swats Sirius across the back of the head.

Sirius laughs. "Maybe she has reasons for not going out with you that even our Moony can't overcome. You know, besides you being a – what was it she called you? – an arrogant, bullying _toerag_?" he smirks.

"Prat," James repeats himself, swatting the grey-eyed boy a bit harder.

Further violence is prevented by the arrival of the professor and the chatter of the students dies down.

Sirius's pointed smirk says to James, _You know I'm right._

_Maybe, but that doesn't mean I want to hear it,_ James's glare replies.

Then the lesson begins, and both boys let the conversation go, but they continue to sneak glances at the pair at the front of the room.

"You know James and Sirius keep looking at us," Remus comments to Lily under pretense of helping her to her feet after having knocked her over with a well-aimed nonverbal hex.

"What else is new?" the redheaded girl responds with a casual shrug. But she peeks over at the two black-haired boys, a curious frown etched between her brows.

Sirius, who is stealing a look at that moment, catches her looking back, and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

Lily flushes and almost misses blocking the jinx Remus has aimed at her.

"Don't pay them any mind," Remus tells her. "You know it only encourages them."

"Right," Lily nods, but flashes another glance towards the back of the room anyway, to see Sirius still looking in their direction. "They're just so… distracting."

Remus glances over as well, and frowns at Sirius's antics. Then he grins. "Lils, watch this." He flicks his wand towards his friends.

A heartbeat later, both black-haired boys are on the ground, looking rather less than pleased.

Lily tries to muffle her laughter in her hands, but some of the sound escapes her.

Sirius and James both turn to glare at their prefect friend and the Head Girl.

Remus winks.

_You're dead,_ Sirius's look promises.

Remus blows him a taunting kiss and turns back to his green-eyed partner. "They'll leave us alone," he informs her. "At least until the end of class."

She laughs freely this time. "We'll be ready for them," she replies.

The bell signaling the end of the lesson finally rings, and Sirius hastily packs away his things. Remus and Lily, much closer to the front of the room, have already disappeared.

Sirius is already in the doorway when James grabs his arm. "Where are you going in such a hurry?" he inquires.

Sirius glances up and down the corridor, but doesn't see what he's looking for. "No where," he says quickly. "It's nothing."

James frowns. "You've been rushing off to No Where, looking for Nothing, all day. Where is this special place you go to?"

"No where," Sirius insists. "Who said I go anywhere, anyway?"

"It's just…" James trails off, frowning more deeply. "Never mind." He shakes his head, slightly annoyed and slightly worried, but resigned. The look he gives Sirius says, _Fine. Keep your secrets for now. I know you'll tell me when you're ready._

Sirius looks away. "Let's get some dinner, yeah?" He heads down the corridor without another word. There is no way he can talk to James about this. No way at all.

Within seconds, James is at his side. He is still slightly annoyed, and a little more than slightly worried, but still resigned to waiting, comfortable in the conviction that Sirius will share everything with him when the time is right.

– – – – –

I step out of the shower, brushing my hair out of my face, and realize there's no towel immediately to hand. I groan, kicking myself for being so distracted earlier – but really, who could blame me? – and cross the cold tiles quickly on my toes, thankful there's no one else around.

I grab a towel from the rack and hastily dry off, moving to stand in front of the bank of sinks and mirrors. Dry now, I wrap the towel around me and reach for my hairbrush. I contemplate my reflection for a long moment, considering my red hair and wondering whether or not I should cut it. I don't much like it long – however much certain _others_ may appreciate it – because it gets in my way, but I've worn it short before, and I just look foolish.

_Is anyone really happy with the way they look?_ I ask myself, meeting my own green eyes in the silvery glass. But as soon as the question crosses my mind, I think, _**He** is._ And no sooner has this confident conclusion been reached when his perfect reflection joins mine in the mirror, grey eyes alight with mischief. Purpose. Lust.

His arms wrap around my waist and he draws me back against him. "I've been dying to get you alone all day," he breathes against my ear before nipping gently at the lobe. "But every time I tried to sneak off, James wanted to know where I was going, and I certainly couldn't tell _him_ the truth."

"Certainly not," I agree in a scratchy whisper, leaning back against his chest without any conscious decision to do so. Despite my body's reaction, I attempt to maintain some sort of control, I'm supposed to be the mature one, after all, and this sort of behavior should be frowned upon. "You're not supposed to be in here," I remind him, as if that would ever really be anything other than incentive for him to come. At his chuckle, I change tactics, for all the good it will do me. I'm curious, anyway. "How did you get in, anyway?"

"I am God," he says in a low rumble that vibrates through me, mouth and breath hot against my neck.

I scoff, or try to. It's hard to scoff when your legs will barely support your weight and all you want to do is moan and melt against the strong body holding you.

"Well, _God_," I say, sarcasm sounding more like breathlessness, "It's past curfew. You should be in bed."

"Not without you." His husky voice sends pleasant chills down my spine.

"Heaven forbid," I manage to get out.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" There's a slightly uncertain edge to his voice that I haven't heard in a long time. Not since we first became… whatever it is we are now.

I turn in his arms. "Of course," I assure him, understanding that this is a time for our games to be over and for us to both be serious. "Don't I always?"

But he's shaking his head. "I mean, stay through 'til morning. Don't sneak off before six and go sleep in you own bed. Stay with me." His arms tighten around me, as though to prevent me from leaving.

I stare up at him for a long moment, unsure what to say. I don't understand his behavior, he's never asked me to stay all night before, as if we were a real couple. That's not what this is about. That's never been what this is about. "I can't," I tell him at last. "We could get caught." _He ought to know that. He _does_ know that. What's he asking me to stay for, anyway? Why would he _want_ me to stay?_ "Besides, what's the point in taking such a risk? We're not _actually_ a couple. We don't need the closure of waking up together. This is just about sex, right?"

Some unknown emotion crosses his face and my gut wrenches. I don't know why I suddenly feel sick, as though I'd just lied to a best friend.

"Right," he says, voice tight. Then he smiles that smile that melts me and every girl I know faster than butter in the sun, and I convince myself the shadows in his eyes are figments of my stressed imagination – all the more reason to forget them and just get _on _with it, like we usually do. That's what this _is_ about. Isn't it?

He kisses me on the mouth, soft, hot, drugging, deep, then slowly moves down my neck, trailing scorching kisses as he goes, careful not to leave any marks.

"Oh, _God_," I groan as his tongue teases the junction of neck and shoulder. I can't help it.

His low chuckle ripples across my skin, full of pleasure and pure, masculine pride. "I told you I was," he reminds me, and, at this moment, I can't help but wonder if maybe he had the right of it.

**TBC**

(1) 'ungulate' – a four-footed, hoofed mammal

**A/N:** Yes, I know I was supposed to update ToTP this weekend, but I've posted a couple ToTP side stories recently, and the fic itself is just not coming along at the moment, so I thought I'd post the first chapter of this new fic instead. I've been working on this since around the time I finished 'One-Night Stand' (which seems like years ago), but, obviously, haven't gotten very far. My brain seems to be on vacation, since the rest of me has to work until I return to school. Updates on my other fics (HLtW, ToTP, and RKoW) will be up whenever they get finished, as will more ToTP side stories. For now, I hope you like this. It's rather different from what I'm used to writing (not simply because the point of view is out of whack, for which I apologize, but cannot see getting much better any time soon), but hopefully it will turn out well. I do hope you will withhold judgment, especially if you feel confused but what's going on. It's meant to be confusing right now. If you are _not_ confused, either you are brilliant, for which I commend you, or you are wrong, in which case I beg you not to lynch me until you at least know what is really going on and decide I still ought to be lynched. I do know what I'm doing. Sort of. I'm sorry for rambling, I have a tendency to do so, as anyone who has read my fics must know. So please, forgive the rambling and any confusion, and review!


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Warning:** slash, get over it, or get out. Kooky POV.

**Dedication:** To The Miss Marauders, because you're the ONLY ONE who was spot on, and to Dark Purple Rain, because, well, _obviously_. :)

**Favorite Mistakes**

**Chapter 2**

I come hard, white stars exploding spectacularly behind my eyelids, and my teeth sink deeply into my lower lip to prevent me from making any sound. I don't know if it's from fear of our being discovered or if it's to keep the words I would scream locked inside. The name I would scream. The name I must never utter in a moment like this.

I return slowly to earth, to sticky sweat, tangled hair, the smell of sex. My breathing evens and my pulse slows.

"You're amazing, Sirius," the praise is a rough purr that makes even my tired blood hum.

"That good, huh?" I manage to ask flippantly. I know what is expected of me.

"You know it." I can hear the satisfied grin in every word. "Good for you, too?"

"Always," I reply. My tongue darts out to feel my dented lip and I taste a trace of blood. _Always,_ I think.

I roll over onto my side and am confronted with a pale-skinned back. I shift closer and wrap my arms around the slender waist just above the line of the sheet.

"Sirius."

"I just want to hold you."

"Sirius."

"Shh." I bury my face in the tangle of red hair, inhaling deeply the scent of shampoo and something unique. "Stay," I whisper.

"Sirius, I can't. You know I can't."

I bite my lip again as my chest tightens inexplicably. "I know. Just… stay until I fall asleep? Like you usually do?"

I can feel the hesitation in every line of every tense muscle under every inch of satin-smooth skin that meets my body, then the gradual relaxation that indicates capitulation.

"All right."

I release my lip and the breath I don't remember holding as I bury my nose once more in the mass of silky red hair. "Thank you," I breathe.

I close my eyes and try to lose myself in the warmth of the body pressed against mine. Slowly I convince myself the warmth will stay with me, though deep down I cannot forget that it really won't, and allow myself to drift off to sleep.

– – – – –

Remus is swiftly and neatly copying down the notes Professor Flitwick has written on the board, when a scrunched up ball of parchment lands in front of him, conveniently smudging the last line of ink before it has had a chance to dry. He scowls at the inanimate interloper rather than bothering to turn and glare at the one responsible. He knows right off that the culprit is Peter, because James would have made a crane or a penguin instead of a ball, Lily would have folded it into a pretty-but-small-and-not-so-flashy design, and Sirius, who is sitting next to Remus, would have just kicked him and whispered, doing without the middle-page all together. And sure enough, when Remus finally deigns to open the note, the three-word message within has been written in Peter's distinctive handwriting, which is neither sharp nor curvy, with its little dashes instead of dots over the i's.

_What's with Evans?_

Remus's scowl deepens in confusion. He scribbles a question of his own at the bottom of the scrap of paper.

_What?_

When Flitwick turns away, he tosses it back to his friend.

Peter's response nearly upsets his inkwell.

_She keeps staring at Padfoot. He doesn't seem happy about it._

Remus glances up in time to see Sirius narrow his eyes pointedly at Lily, who has indeed been staring at him from across the room with a very strange expression on her face.

The redhead flushes when she realizes that Remus is looking at her, and hastily turns back to the front of the room.

Remus turns to Sirius, kicking the boy's ankle to get his attention. When Sirius looks at him, he jerks his head in Lily's direction, raising an eyebrow in question. _What's that about?_

Sirius shrugs. "How should I know?" he mutters, and bends over his notes.

Remus frowns and bites his lip, but doesn't say anything. He flips the note over.

_I'll ask her about it later, _he writes, then adds, just to be on the safe side. _Don't say anything to James._ He slips it to the boy behind him, then returns his attention to the lesson. Whatever the problem is – if there is a problem, which he assumes there is – he's sure it will keep until the bell rings. He'll deal with it then.

– – – – –

"Eyes closed," Lily orders.

Remus obeys automatically, shifting position slightly on the camp stool. "So, are you going to tell me why you've taken up Sirius-watching?" he inquires as Lily's fingers start to comb through his hair.

"I hadn't planned on it."

"Lots of things happen that we don't plan on."

"Clearly." Her fingers tug a little harder than necessary on his hair.

He ignores the slight physical abuse, knowing he can outwait her.

After several long moments she sighs in exasperation. "You _know_ why I was looking at him."

"I forget," he drawls, just because he can. "Enlighten me."

He can hear the scowl in her voice. "I don't approve of his behavior in public," she informs him, for what must be the millionth time this week alone. She's clearly annoyed at having to repeat herself.

Remus is mildly amused at the way her annoyance increases each time he makes her say it. He knows he probably shouldn't goad her about this, but she could be a little gentler on his head, and, quite frankly, he's getting sick of talking about this with her.

"He takes risks he shouldn't. I'm surprised he's not pushing for public displays of affection. He doesn't seem to understand the meaning of discretion, lately, if he ever did."

"Haven't I told you to stop worrying so much?" Remus inquires, tilting his head forward so that Lily can reach the back more easily.

Lily sighs again. "Yes, but still. Secret affairs are supposed to be _secret_. If they were meant to be publicized, they wouldn't be secret affairs. They'd be…" she trails off, at a loss.

"Public affairs?" Remus offers, trying not to laugh.

Lily swats the back of his head, but it's half-hearted.

"Look," he says, as kindly as he can with his jaw pressed against his own chest so she can get at the nape of his neck, "It _is_ a secret. Only the three of us know about it. Unless you've gone and told half the school?"

She swats the back of his head again, with a bit more force this time. "No more than you have."

"Good. Then it's just the three of us in the know, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Done," she says. "You can open your eyes while we wait. What if _he_'s told somebody?"

Remus opens his eyes a crack, then the rest of the way, peering at her as she moves to lean against one of the sinks. "Who would he tell?"

Lily is silent for a moment, thinking. She opens her mouth, then closes it again. When she finally speaks, it's clearly not what she had originally been thinking. "Pettigrew?"

The boy snorts. "Peter? Not likely. He doesn't talk about such things with Peter, and it's a good thing. I don't think Peter could handle this."

She nods, but offers nothing else.

Remus regards her for a long moment. "Ask it," he says at last.

"Ask what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Evans. You know as well as I do that he'd never talk about something like this with Peter."

She sniffs indignantly. "Fine," she grants. "I know he wouldn't talk to Peter about it. But I _do_ know there are two likely candidates for Primary Witness to any Sirius Black soul-baring. Remus Lupin and James Potter. You _obviously_ already know. That still leaves number two."

"James is the person he'd be most likely to tell any sort of secret to," Remus concedes, "but you can be sure he hasn't said anything to James about _this_. I'd have heard about it if he had. _You_'d have heard about it if he had. _Everyone_ would have heard about it if he had."

Lily rolls her eyes. "You've got a point," she admits.

He grins.

"Stop smirking," she orders him.

He laughs.

She rolls her eyes again, then checks her watch. "Go rinse," she tells him.

He rises from the stool and turns one of the showerheads on, sticking just his head under it so he can run the water over his hair. When he's done, he shuts the water off and watches the last traces of the excess dye run towards the drain like streams of weak blood.

He's silent as the green-eyed girl makes sure there's no dye left on his skin.

"I don't think he knows why you've been staring at him," Remus remarks at last, buttoning his shirt, which he had removed and hung on a hook for safekeeping.

"What?" Lily asks. She's already heading for the door.

"He didn't seem to know why you were staring at him, earlier," Remus clarifies, looping his school tie carelessly around his neck. "You might want to let him know you've been doing it because you disapprove. Wouldn't do for him to get the wrong idea."

Lily gasps indignantly and turns to glare at her friend.

Remus chuckles, and winks, then slips past her and out into the corridor, snagging the 'Out of Order' sign from the door and stowing it safely in his school bag.

– – – – –

It's nearly dawn when I finally creep into my own bed, his heat and scent still on my skin.

"_You're amazing, Sirius,"_ I'd told him. I always do. That's what's expected of me. Of course, it helps that it's true. He is amazing. In more ways than one.

But discretion is certainly not his strong point, at least not when it comes to this particular situation. I try not to worry, but it's getting harder. He's so _casual_ about it these days, about soft touches and little brushes when he thinks no one's watching. It's almost as if he _wants _to get caught. I know that's not true, and I know he really is trying to be careful, but I have this niggling fear that he'll slip up, that the secret will get out. And then it will all be over. Everything.

We're not a couple. We can't be. We don't want to be. We agreed on that at the beginning. Well, actually, we barely spoke at the beginning, we just _fucked_, because that's what we wanted, that's what we needed. But later, when this… arrangement… became whatever it is now, we decided that this is all it would be. We'd screw like rabbits in private, if that's what we needed, but it wouldn't affect the rest of our lives, or the relationship we have in public. It would be a secret. So that's what it is.

Only… lately, he's been different, and I don't understand it. I'm not really sure I want to understand it. We do this for stress relief, and stress relief only. It's just sex. That's it. I get the feeling that if I try to understand, my stress levels will go way up, which would really defeat the purpose.

I groan into my pillow and give my bed curtains an extra twitch, to keep out the light of the rising sun.

_Maybe there's nothing to understand,_ I think to myself, tired enough to half believe it. _Maybe he's just behaving like this… asking me to stay… because he likes the heat of another body in bed with him. He doesn't like the cold. Everyone knows that._

I have to admit, as I huddle in my cold sheets, the thought of shared body-heat is very appealing.

I remind myself firmly of the dangers of staying in bed with him, of the consequences of being caught. The consequences for both of us.

It's enough to keep me safely in my own chilly bed, but it's a close call.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Oh, dear. There's trouble in paradise. Or, trouble at Hogwarts, anyway. For some reason, my fics don't seem to be doing what I want them to do. They have minds of their own. Oh, well. Please review and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing.

**Warning:** slash, get over it, or get out. Rating is now for lemony situations as well as language and general themes. Kooky POV (though there is a pattern, as I'm sure you must have all realized by now).

**Favorite Mistakes**

**Chapter 3**

I can't sleep. My bed is already cold and even my dreams can't keep me warm.

Swallowing my groan, I roll out of bed. I curse as I hit the floor. My bare skin prickles as the chilly air hits me. It's even colder out here than it was inside the drapes of my four-poster. I curse again, a little more loudly than I'd intended, then quickly glance around at the other beds to make sure I haven't woken anyone.

The curtains hiding my roommates from me are still. I'm the only one awake.

I breathe a silent sigh of relief. It would have been rather awkward if, for example, Peter had innocently poked his head out to make sure I was unhurt, only to see me shivering in the draft without a stitch on.

Moving as swiftly and silently as I can, I gather my clothes for the day from my trunk and retreat to the bathroom to shower, throwing a nasty look at James's closed curtains as I pass his bed. It wouldn't be nearly so cold in here if he didn't insist on leaving the window open all year long.

I claim the shower farthest from the door and turn the taps on hot. I step under the scalding spray with a sigh of pleasure, closing my eyes and letting the hard stream beat down on my head. I stand still for a moment, merely soaking, but the heat is warming my blood and images of last night begin to dance behind my closed lids.

I draw my hand slowly down my chest, dragging a nail lightly across one of my nipples, a low moan rising from my throat. My hand drifts lower, and I imagine it's not my hand at all, remembering the green eyes, feverish with lust, that burned into mine only a few short hours ago. Fingers close around hard, hot flesh and I can't help but thrust into my-hand-not-my-hand. I bite my lower lip, but I can't prevent several intense groans from escaping. Tighter, faster… and then… My whole body jerks and I come, teeth sinking into my lip – as much out of habit now as out of necessity – to keep from crying out.

The green eyes have faded from my vision. There's nothing left but the pounding water and the frantic race of my heart.

I open my eyes. They sting. I blame the water flowing down on me from the showerhead and close them again.

I'm shaking, still.

I lean my forehead against the cool, damp tiles of the wall, eyes still tightly closed, and wait for my heartbeat to slow.

– – – – –

James looks up from his chess match with Peter to frown at his best friend, who is currently sprawled in an armchair, immersed in a textbook. "You all right, Padfoot?"

Sirius doesn't respond.

James raises his voice slightly. "You all right, Padfoot?"

The grey-eyed boy starts and looks up. "What?"

James's frown deepens, and now Peter looks up from the board as well.

"I asked if you were all right," James says.

"Oh, sure. Fine. I'm just studying." Sirius returns to his book.

"I know," James mutters, just loud enough for Peter to hear him. "That's what worries me."

"Maybe he's stressed about McGonagall's exam tomorrow," Peter offers in a tone that suggests even _he_ doesn't believe his words.

James doesn't even bother to grace his friend's remark with a reply, merely returning his attention to the game with a small shake of his head.

The sound of feminine laughter from across the room distracts the Head Boy only seconds later, and he nearly upsets the board as he cranes his neck to see what – or who – dared to make Lily Evans laugh.

"She's with Remus," Peter says without looking up.

As if to verify this, the slightly lower sound of Remus's chuckle joins the merry tinkle of Lily's jollity.

"How does he _do_ it?" James demands of the room at large.

"Magic?" Sirius suggests sarcastically. He is still staring at the pages in front of him, but his jaw has tightened and there's a tense, almost angry look about him.

Peter snorts and moves his queen two spaces. "Your go," he tells James, who is no longer paying attention.

James jumps guiltily, and looks back at the game.

"They're friends," Peter reminds both his opponent and their reading comrade. "I don't see why it bothers you two so."

James glances up briefly and Peter rolls his eyes.

"Yes, well, I know why it bothers _you_," he amends, "though you really ought to grow up about it. But you," he turns to Sirius, who is adamantly glowering at his open text, "you don't make any sense at all."

"When does he ever make sense?" James inquires, but his focus is now on the chessboard and his query has no bite.

Peter rolls his eyes again. "I'd think you'd be happy for him, to have other friends."

"What does he need other friends for?" Sirius snaps at his book. "He has _us_."

"His having other friends made sense last term," Peter retorts, and immediately wishes he'd said nothing as two sets of eyes, one hazel, one grey, turn to glare at him. "I'm just saying," he mutters, unable to back down now without looking a complete coward. "Once the three of _us_ were talking again, he wouldn't speak to any of us. Would you rather he'd not had _any_ friends?"

James grunts and looks away.

Sirius opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again, burying his nose once more in his book.

"Besides," Peter adds, a bit defensively, shooting a look at Sirius. "It's really your fault he's so close to her, if you want to assign blame."

There's silence for a moment.

James's hand hovers briefly over the board before he makes his choice. "Check," he announces.

And Peter lets the matter drop, far more interested at the moment in saving his king than in brassing off his friends.

– – – – –

Lily flops gracelessly to the couch beside Remus. She leans against him, resting her head on his shoulder and batting her lashes up at him in a revolting imitation of her sister. "Tell me a story."

Remus peers at her, finding it difficult to glare from the awkward angle. "Tell you a story?"

"Yes, please." She shifts into a more comfortable position against him.

"Lily," he begins, trying to form a protest.

"You know you want to," she cuts him off.

He groans and glances over his shoulder across the room.

James is absorbed in a chess game with Peter – no help there. Sirius is… studying? That can't be right.

"Is Sirius _studying_?" he inquires of the girl snuggled against him.

She cranes her neck uncomfortably to peek over the back of the couch at the boy in question.

"Looks like," she replies, settling back to her former position.

"Wonder what's wrong," Remus murmurs to himself.

"Hm?" Lily nudges the boy in the thigh. "Speak up."

"If he's studying, there must be something wrong," Remus explains. "I was just wondering what. He hasn't said anything to me."

"That's not particularly surprising," Lily remarks.

"What?"

Lily says nothing for a moment, thinking.

Remus nudges her gently. "Speak up," he mimics.

"I just think it's pretty likely you already know what he's upset about, if he is, indeed, upset about something."

"I can't see as he'd have anything to be upset about, in that particular area. Unless you know something I don't?" he tries to frown piercingly down at her, but only manages a semi-scowl to the top of her head. "Do you know something I don't?"

"Of course not," Lily replies quickly. Too quickly.

"Lily? Are you holding out on me?"

"Of course not," she repeats. "Now, tell me a story."

"What's with you and this _story_?"

"What girl doesn't want her best guy friend to tell her a juicy story before bed, to get her imagination going?" she half-teases.

Remus scowls at the girl's hair again. "Lily, I'm not telling you any more _stories_. Besides, you already know everything."

"But I always like to hear my favorites again," she grins. "And I don't know _everything_. You barely tell me _anything_. I have to drag every single tidbit I get out of you, and that's really not very exciting."

"I'm sorry my sex life doesn't excite you," Remus drawls.

Lily snickers and sits up so she can face the redheaded boy. "Who says your sex life doesn't excite me? It's better than mine, after all." She sighs. "I miss having a _love_ life."

He raises an eyebrow pointedly at her. "You could have a love life if you wanted."

"I am not going to have a love life with James Potter," she snaps, but it's half-hearted.

Remus snorts. "You're perfect for each other, you know."

"I can't stand him!"

Remus smirks. "Very Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy."

Lily gapes at him for nearly a full minute, then bursts out laughing.

Remus gives her a questioning look.

"I knew making you read Jane Austen would come back to bite me," she manages to get out, before dissolving into laughter once more.

He shakes his head, but chuckles along with her. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see James looking in their direction, a displeased expression firmly etched across his face. Neither of the other two boys have looked up.

Something shifts slightly in Remus's eyes and he falls silent.

It takes Lily only a moment to register the shift in her friend's mood and she swiftly gets herself under control. "What's wrong?" she inquires.

"Nothing," he responds quickly, shaking his head for emphasis.

She frowns, almond-shaped green eyes narrowing. "Remus."

He doesn't meet her gaze. "You wanted a story?"

She purses her lips and waits.

There's silence for several long moments.

She gives in first. He can always outwait her.

"You're avoiding the subject," she informs him.

"I thought I was returning to it," he retorts. "You were the one who brought up story-telling to begin with."

"Yes, but…"

"Yes, but…" he mocks.

She scowls.

"Story. Story!" he waves one hand back and forth in front of her, fingers pinched together and pointing downwards as if he were dangling a treat.

"Stop that." She bats ineffectually at his hand.

He chuckles, but his green eyes are still shadowed. "Fine, then. I just figured I may as well indulge you while there's no one close enough to eavesdrop," he remarks conversationally.

Lily is silent for a minute, considering. She glances over towards the three seventh year boys across the room, then looks back at Remus.

"Tell me something about him?" she asks.

He doesn't need to ask who 'he' is, just nods slowly, as though he's been expecting this. "What do you want to know?"

"That night," she begins hesitantly, "last year. When he… The night Potter saved Severus Snape's life. You never really told me what… I mean, you told me part of it, that he sent Snape down the tunnel, and Potter went in after him. But the rest of it…"

"You want to know why," Remus says heavily.

Lily nods, looking half uncomfortable, half hopeful. "I didn't want to press you before. You were so upset, and none of you were speaking to him, and then you weren't speaking to any of them… How did _that_ happen, by the way?"

Remus sighs. "We all stopped talking to him after he did it. James even hit him, at some point, I believe, and said something about never speaking to Sirius again, and Peter agreed, though mostly Peter just sort of tried to stay out of it, which was rather smart of him, actually. But James caved early on – he has no willpower where Sirius is concerned – and Peter followed suit pretty quickly – he has no willpower period – so I was the odd one out. That's when I started spending so much time with you." He snorts, suddenly, remembering. "You and your henna."

She smiles reminiscently. "You really had no chance of staying a brunet."

He shakes his head. "I will never understand the obsession you natural redheads have with dying your hair red. It just doesn't make sense."

"But just think, if I didn't use henna, your hair would still be brown. And you're just so _cute_ now."

"Cute?" he raises an eyebrow.

She grins.

He rolls his eyes at her, then his face sobers. "Snape," he says, returning to her original question.

She nods.

"Snape was always sneaking around," Remus tells her. "He didn't – doesn't – get along very well with any of us, especially James, but he kept trying to figure out where I went every month. And he was rather… fascinated… by Sirius. Sirius being a Black was part of it, I'm sure. Snape is friends with Lucius Malfoy, who's engaged to one of Sirius's cousins, and I'm sure he's interested in the family in general, but I think it was more than that. I think he had a bit of a… well, a _crush_ on Sirius."

Lily's eyes widen.

"I know," Remus half-smiles at her shocked expression. "I don't think he was very good at expressing his feelings. Boys, you know?"

She giggles, but doesn't interrupt.

"Anyway, Sirius, as I'm sure you'd guess, was rather, erm, _disgusted_, by this apparent interest. Besides the fact that Sirius, like James, has despised Snape for as long as he's known him, Snape is something of a representation of everything Sirius hates. Slytherin. Pureblood. Rather obsessed with the Dark Arts. I think it all – understandably – reminds Sirius of his family. Well, he told James later it was 'a prank to get Snivellus to stop following him around.' He thought it would be _funny_."

"_Funny_?" Lily gasps.

Remus sighs. "I don't think he ever quite realized how dangerous it could be. He's never been afraid of me – of what I am – himself, so I don't think it has ever really occurred to him how vicious a fully-grown werewolf really is. And he can be quite… reckless."

"That's more than reckless!" Lily exclaims, and shoots a fierce glare across the room.

Remus glances over, but none of the boys were looking in their direction. He turns back to Lily. "Well, you know the rest. He told James. James thought it was funny for about a minute, then realized that Snape might actually try it, and went haring off after him and pulled him out in time to save his neck, but not quick enough to keep him from seeing me. Dumbledore swore Snape to secrecy. I found out what had happened, shouted some rather nasty, though not undeserved, things at Sirius, and our silent treatment of him ensued."

"You pretended he didn't exist," Lily reminds him.

"Right," he nods. His mouth twitches slightly. "With limited success."

She smirks at him. "It seemed quite successful those first few months."

"Yes," he nods again. "And we didn't properly become friends again until a week before the Gryffindor-Slytherin match. But, you know, there were a few times before that when I couldn't really ignore him."

"I bet," she mutters, and thwacks his leg.

"You know how hard it can be to ignore him, sometimes."

"Extremely hard, I'm sure," she concurs dryly.

He glowers at her.

She smiles innocently. "Just agreeing with you."

"Mm-hm," he hums skeptically.

She grins. "So, want to tell me another story?"

"No. You've had your story. And it's past my bedtime, so I'm off." He rises and stretches.

There's a flicker of movement from across the room, but when Remus turns to look, James and Peter are still bent over the chessboard and Sirius is still absorbed in his book.

Lily rises as well. "Night, then," she says, and gives Remus a quick hug.

"Night," he replies, and they both head for their respective dormitories.

Five minutes later, Sirius puts down his book and excuses himself to his companions, leaving them alone in the common room to finish their third game of the night.

– – – – –

_I scowl down at my textbook, willing it to capture and hold my attention as it ought to do. It refuses._

_I can hear the shuffle of papers from the bed next to mine, and I have to force myself not to glance over. Glancing over would mean I am admitting he is in the room with me, and I cannot admit he is in the room with me if he does not exist. Only those who are insane admit that someone who does not exist is in the room._

_A rather aggrieved-sounding sigh floats across the room from the person-who-does-not-exist._

_I grit my teeth together, staring harder at my textbook._

_Another sigh reaches my ears and I give up. I close my book and gather my things together. I can't work if I can't concentrate. I can't concentrate if there are people-who-do-not-exist in the room with me._

_I roll off my bed and scoop up my pile of work, deciding to head for the library instead of just going down to the common room. I'm more likely to get work done if there aren't other people around._

_I check my armload as I cross the room, making sure I have everything I might need. I reach out to open the door, but instead of a doorknob, my fingers close on another hand._

_Startled, I look up. The person-who-does-not-exist is staring back at me, one arm cradling several books, the other hand under mine on the handle of the door._

_For a long moment we don't speak, we just glare at each other. I'm not quite sure what he has to glare about, unless he's angry that he no longer exists, but, really, that's his own fault. I have every right to glare, after what he did, and he knows it, too._

_Then our books are on the floor and I have him up against the wall, my mouth covering his. If I were any less furious with him, I might say it's awkward, but no, it's just rough and angry, all tongues and teeth fighting fiercely for… what?_

_He squirms against me and I release his hands in preference of divesting him of his robes and everything beneath them, allowing him to return the favor. Several of the buttons pop off of his shirt and I get stuck for a moment in my tie – which he is in too much of a rush to unknot, merely loosening it and tugging it over my head – but then we're skin to skin and we're toeing off our shoes and socks as we frantically unbuckle each other's belts, and then…_

_Our positions are switched as he grinds against me. I gasp something. I don't know what, but he understands me. My legs are wrapped around his waist, my back supported by the wall, his hands on my ass. He mutters something, a spell of some kind, though his wand is no where in sight, then his fingers are sliding inside me, prepping me, and I muffle a moan against his neck, tasting his sweat on my tongue._

_And then… And then…_

_We never make it to a bed, though there are four within several easy steps of us._

_He takes me where we are, hard against the wall mere inches from the door. It seems like either hours or scant seconds later, and the world is exploding in lights and colors. I bite down on the junction of his shoulder and neck to keep from making any sound even as I hear him cry out wordlessly, and then I'm sliding._

_We collapse on the ground in a sweaty, sticky heap, surrounded by the smell of sex as we drift back to earth._

_Several minutes pass before my head clears enough for me to appreciate fully what has just happened. I blink at the ceiling and realize I'm still very angry, but far less stressed about the whole thing._

_I blink again and turn my head to look at him. He's watching me, a strange look in his grey eyes._

_I can feel a scowl assuming its position on my face. "Just because I let you fuck me doesn't mean I forgive you," I snap before I've made a conscious decision to say anything._

_He flinches visibly. "I know," he says softly. "We were stressed. It wasn't… It didn't mean anything. It was a one-time thing, won't happen again. It was a mistake." He rolls onto his side, facing away from me._

_It feels as though my stomach or my intestines or something else inside me is trying to crawl out through my navel, twisting inside me as though I'm going to be sick. "A mistake," I repeat, and climb stiffly to my feet. "Just stress," I tell the back of his head as I start to reclaim my clothes. "Didn't mean anything." I find my second sock on Peter's bed (how it got there I have no idea), and head for the showers._

_There's the soft sound of his voice. "At least you're talking to me again," it sounds like._

_I stop for a moment, half-prepared to turn around and ask him what he said, because I can't have heard him correctly, but I decide against it, firmly closing the bathroom door behind me._

I wake abruptly to the sound of a door slamming – the others are up and getting ready for classes. I have that bizarre feeling that I was dreaming, but I can't remember what about. I roll over in my bed, half expecting him to be there, even though he's never slept here before. I sit up with a groan and rub my eyes. My hands come away damp.

**TBC**

**A/N:** Well, it's longer than the first two chapters. I hadn't really planned on that, but I was trying to get a good bit of the background information in. Hopefully, people have a clearer understanding of what's going on, now? Yes? No? Do I need to be _more_ blatant? Hm. Well, please review and let me know what you're all thinking!


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